"Underhill was laid up with a rheumatic fever for three months. The
consequence was, that, when quarter-day came round, he was in about
the same situation with ourselves,--a little worse even, for his
wife was sick, also. But though Colman was aware of the
circumstances, he had no pity; but turned them out without
ceremony."

"And there's no reason for his being more lenient with us. I can't
but feel anxious about to-morrow, Mary."

At this moment, verifying an old adage which will perhaps occur to
the reader, who should knock but Mr. Colman himself?

Both the cooper and his wife had an instinctive foreboding as to the
meaning of his visit.

He came in, rubbing his hands in a social way, as was his custom. No
one, to look at him, would have suspected the hardness of heart that
lay veiled under his velvety softness of manner.

"Good evening, Mr. Crump," said he, affably, "I trust you and your
worthy wife are in good health."

"That blessing, at least, is continued to us," said the cooper,
gravely.

"And how comfortable you're looking too, eh! It makes an old
bachelor, like me, feel lonesome when he contrasts his own solitary
room with such a scene of comfort as this. You've got a comfortable
home, and dog-cheap, too. All my other tenants are grumbling to
think you don't have to pay any more for such superior
accommodations. I've about made up my mind that I must ask you
twenty-five dollars a quarter, hereafter."

All this was said very pleasantly, but the pill was none the less
bitter.

"It seems to me, Mr. Colman," remarked the cooper soberly, "you have
chosen rather a singular time for raising the rent."

"You ought to cut your coat according to your cloth," he responded.
"Much as it will go against my feelings, under the circumstances I
am compelled by a prudent regard to my own interests to warn you
that, in case your rent is not ready to-morrow, I shall be obliged
to trouble you to find another tenement; and furthermore, the rent
of this will be raised five dollars a quarter."

"I can't pay it, Mr. Colman," said the cooper; "I may as well say
that now; and it's no use my agreeing to pay more rent. I pay all I
can afford now."

"Very well, you know the alternative. But it is a disagreeable
subject. We won't talk of it now; I shall be round to-morrow
morning. How's your excellent sister; as cheerful as ever?"

"But there's one favor I should like to ask, if you will allow us to
remain here a few days till I can look about me a little."

"I would with the greatest pleasure in the world," was the reply,
"but there's another family very anxious to take the house, and they
wish to come in immediately. Therefore I shall be obliged to ask you
to move out to-morrow. In fact that is the very thing I came here
this evening to speak about, as I thought you might not wish to pay
the increased rent."

"We are much obliged to you," said the cooper, with a tinge of
bitterness unusual to him. "If we are to be turned out of doors, it
is pleasant to have a few hours' notice of it."

"Turned out of doors, my good friend! What disagreeable expressions
you employ! It is merely a matter of business. I have an article to
dispose of. There are two bidders; yourself and another person. The
latter is willing to pay a larger sum. Of course I give him the
preference. Don't you see how it is?"

"I believe I do," replied the cooper. "Of course, it's a regular
proceeding; but you must excuse me if I think of it in another
light, when I reflect that to-morrow at this time my family and
myself may be without a shelter."

"My dear sir, positively you are looking on the dark side of things.
It is actually sinful to distrust Providence as you seem to do.
You're a little disappointed, that's all. Just take to-night to
sleep on it, and I've no doubt you'll think better of it and of me.
But positively I have stayed longer than I intended. Good night, my
friends. I'll look in upon you in the morning. And by the by, as it
is so near the time, allow me to wish you a Happy New Year."

"It looks well in him to wish that," said the cooper, gloomily. "A
great deal he is doing to make it so. I don't know how it seems to
others, but for my part I never say them words to any one unless I
really wish 'em well, and am willing to do something to make 'em so.
I should feel as if I was a hypocrite if I acted anyways different."

Mary did not respond to this. In her own gentle heart she could not
help feeling a silent repugnance, mingled, it may be, with a shade
of contempt, for the man who had just left them. It was an
uncomfortable feeling, and she strove to get rid of it."

"I mean that about not distrusting Providence. Many a time have I
been comforted by reading the verse, "Never have I seen the
righteous forsaken, or his seed begging bread. "As long as we try to
do what is right, Timothy, God will not suffer us to want."

"You are right, Mary. He is our ever-present help in time of need.
Let us put away all anxious cares, fully confiding in his gracious
promises."